Twist and Turns
by RascalFlattsS
Summary: One moment, they were just talking. Then next, everything went wrong. Spoilers for Nevada v. Riley Please R&R.


Twist and Turns

By RascalFlattsS

Disclaimer: Do not own the Defenders.

Spoilers for Nevada v. Riley

This idea has been stuck in my head all day, bugging me at work. It's a miracle I got any work done today at all really.

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><p>It all happened so fast. One moment, they were just talking. Just talking for crying out loud! They were talking to Brett about a plea deal. Brett starts rambling about something-what exactly Nick didn't know. Pete just reaches over the table, telling him that everything is going to be okay and then the next thing Nick knows, Brett has leap out of his chair and lunges across the table at Pete.<p>

It all happened so fast.

Brett shoots across the table with lighting speed, slamming into Pete. The force of a three hundred pound ex-football causes Pete's chair to fall backwards causing Pete to crash to the floor with a defeating bang.

Nick winces as he hears the sound of Pete's head slam into the payment. He notices all too well how that after his head hits the ground, Pete goes slack.

Not to mention, there is now a three-hundred pound ex-football player, sitting on his chest, beating the crap out of him.

Nick is out of his chair in a heartbeat. He moves faster than he would have ever imaged. He grabs Brett and tries to pull him off of Pete.

"HELP!" Nick screams. "We need some help in here!"

Brett is struggling for all his worth, trying to get to Pete. Nick does his best to hold him back, but it's difficult to say the least.

Once Brett releases he can no longer punch Pete, he starts to kick him. Hard. In the chest.

Nick isn't sure which worries him more: the fact that Brett is beating the daylights out his best friend or the fact that his best friend has yet to respond to any of them.

Nick tightens his grip and attempts to drag Brett away from Pete. Brett struggles to get Pete, screaming "I'll kill him!"

After an eternity, the guards coming rushing into the room. Two guards grab Brett and roughly drag him out of the room, with Brett kicking and screaming all the way.

The remaining guard looks at Nick. "What the hell was that about?"

Nick ignores him and leans down towards Pete. He shakes his shoulder. "Pete! PETE!"

Pete remains still. His eyes are shut. His face is deadly white except for the dark bruises starting to form of which there were many.

He looks dead.

Nick grabs Pete's wrist and checks for a pulse. He lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding as he fells the steady pulse thumping away underneath his fingers.

"Thank God," whispered Nick. "Just hang on Pete. You're going to be okay." He runs a hand through Pete's hair, like a parent does to reassure a small child. He pauses when he feels something warm and sticky on his hand. He pulls his hand back, horrified to see red.

Shit.

Nick looks up at the guard panicked. "Where the hell is the bus?" he practically screams.

"On its way," replied the guard. "What happened?"

"I don't know," said Nick. He looks down sadly at Pete. "I don't know—"

The paramedics came bursting in. They rushed towards them.

"What happened?" asked the one paramedic.

"He knocked him down," said Nick. "The chair fell…he hit his head…then he punched and kicked him…." Nick shook his head. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Sir, I need you to step back," the paramedic continued.

"Is he going to be okay?" repeated Nick.

"Sir," the one paramedic said gently. She smiled. "In order to help your friend, we need you to move. Okay?"

Nick nodded absently and stood up, allowing the other paramedic to swoop in. He watched them work, slipping a C-collar around Pete's neck.

"Broken ribs," said the one paramedic. She was gently running her hands along Pete's rib cage. "One could be pushing against the lung-maybe punctured."

Nick paled. Punctured?

The other paramedic nodded. "He's got an abrasion to the back of the skull, not to mention all the punches this guy took to the face."

"Let's get him out of here," said the one paramedic. Her colleague nodded. They unfolded their backboard and slipped it under him in one fluid motion. They then lifted him up on the stretcher.

As her partner secured Pete to the stretcher, the female paramedic turned to Nick. "Do you want to ride with us?"

Nick nodded. She smiled.

"You can ride in the back with your friend," she said. "Just stay out of our way."

Nick nodded again. He ran alongside the stretcher as the paramedics wheeled him out the ambulance. Nick jumped in the back of the ambulance as they loaded Pete in. The female paramedic climbed in after while her partner closed the doors and ran up front to drive.

Nick watched as the female paramedic slipped an oxygen mask over Pete's face. "What's that for?" he asked concerned.

"It's just a precaution," she answered.

"Is he going to be okay?" Nick asked softly.

The paramedics shrugged her shoulders. "Hard to say. He's got a bad head wound. He's got several broken ribs. But he's young and healthy."

Nick nodded, taking in all the information. He looked down at Pete sadly. He gently picked up Pete's hand.

"I'm sorry Pete," Nick said softly. "I'm so sorry."

One of the monitors started beeping. Nick and the paramedic looked up it. The paramedic cursed loudly.

Nick didn't have to go to medical school to know that was a bad thing.

"What's happening?" asked Nick.

The paramedic turned to her partner. "How far are we from the hospital?"

"About 2 minutes," he replied.

"Get us there in one," said the paramedic. She grabbed her stethoscope and listened to Pete's breathing. She cursed again.

"On second thought, get us there now!" she replied.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Nick.

"Remember how I said your friend had several broken ribs?" she asked. Nick nodded. "Well it looks like one of them punctured his lung and the lung is collapsing."

Nick paled. "Oh God," he breathed. He tightened his grip on Pete's hand.

The ambulance slammed to a stop. Nick barely had time to regain his balance when the ambulance doors burst open and Pete's hand was ripped out of his.

Nick jumped out of the ambulance and followed the stretcher, catching bits of the conversation between the doctors and paramedics.

"30 year old male-"

"Serve head wound to the back of the skull-"

"Multiple facial abrasions-"

"Broken ribs-"

"Punctured lung-"

"He's not breathing!"

Nick felt his heart stopped. He tried to follow the stretcher through the ER doors but was stopped by a nurse.

"Sir you can't go back there," she said softly.

"But-" said Nick. He gestured to the doors . "You don't understand. My friend is in there."

"And the doctors are going to do everything they can for him," said the nurse gently. "You'll only get in the way in there. You need to let the doctors do their job."

Nick nodded sadly. "This can't be happened," he said softly.

"C'mon," said the nurse. She led him down the hall into the waiting room. She directed him to a chair and gently pushed him into a chair.

"I'm going to get you a cup of coffee," said the nurse. "In the meantime, why don't you call your friends and family? Let them know what's going on."

Nick nodded absently. He waited as the nurse walked. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Jess?" he asked softly. "It's me. I need you to come to the hospital. Pete's been hurt."

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><p>Horrible cliffie karma!<p>

Please R&R! It's really the only cure for the dreaded cliffie karma. That and chocolate. But then chocolate cures everything. ;-)


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